Unicorns, Kittens and Sadistic Children
by AppleDragon
Summary: Meet Alex, one of the weirdest individuals on the planet, in the planet, around the planet and on other planets. In fact, she's so weird that her name should be Happy De La Blobbystein Von Hughes. But that sounds too much like a sparkly vampire.
1. Pink Sparkles and Evil Kittens

**A/N: Hi guys! This is my first fanfiction, and it probably would have remained trapped inside my brain if SabbiEatzCookies hadn't agreed to collaborate with me :)**

**Okay, enough from me. Enjoy! (or read while silently thinking evil thoughts towards me) Please review, even if it is just to rage at me :)**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANY CHARACTERS MENTIONED IN THE SERIES. ALEX, HOWEVER, IS ALL MINE. **  
><strong>I ALSO CLAIM NO RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE CREATION OF THE SPARKLY VAMPIRE MENTIONED<strong>

* * *

><p><strong><strong>

"I have to do WHAT?" I demanded, staring incredulously at the redheaded woman in front of me. She had seemed quite normal, at first glance, but her calm exterior was obviously masking a severely… disturbed, shall we say, interior.

Ah, but I seem to have forgotten my manners. Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Alex. Just to clarify – I _am_ of the female persuasion. And completely sane, unlike my parents (who knew full well that I was female, and yet still burdened me with this name – sadistic freaks) and that ginger lady who I have just mentioned. Pure-blooded, thank you very much. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't _hate_ muggleborns, per se, but let's just say that I'd rather not get too close. And half-bloods are all very… _unique_. Like those little mutt puppies that aren't _too_ugly to look at, and can be quite endearing after you get used to them.

Like every other person I know, I have white-blond hair, and glacial blue eyes. And an annoyingly posh, superior way of speaking. And I'm ridiculously stuck up. Not to mention full of myself. Mmhmm. That is _definitely _a trait of a pureblood family.

Oh, come on. You thought I was serious? Okay, fine, my name is Alex, and I AM pure-blooded, but that's where the similarities end. You see, my mom is very curious about Muggles, and she got thrown out of the house when she was 17 after she was caught smuggling rubber ducks up to her room to study them. Long story short, she ran off to buy an apartment in Muggle London, met my dad, who works in the Ministry of Magic as an Unspeakable, and I was raised as a Muggle. Talk about screwed-up social experiments.

I had no idea that I was a witch until my 11th birthday (which, incidentally, is on the first of September – send me presents or I WILL kill you), when I left for school only to be assaulted by a freaking OWL which seemed intent on picking me up and flying me to this witch school thing singlehandedly (singlewingedly? Oh, whatever). Anyway, long story short, I managed somehow run up the wall of my building until my apartment, and then run straight through the window to the kitchen, where my mother was making a sandwich (Yes, ha ha. Very funny. My mother was in the kitchen making a sandwich. Are you done with your sexist jokes now? Good).

So my mother looks blankly at me for a few seconds, before whipping out her wand and screaming 'PETRIFUCUS TOTALUS'. The owl stiffened up and fell to the floor with a feathery plunk. Well, that was effective. She reached down and picked up the letter, which was attached to the owl's leg, read it, and sat down heavily on the floor, looking every bit as stunned as the owl.

Meanwhile, I was still staring blankly down at the owl, thinking evil thoughts involving pulling its feathers out slowly and painfully, throwing it out the window, and then drowning it. The owl looked up at me with large, golden eyes, looking like it was begging for mercy. I smirked, and kicked it out of the way.

When I looked up from the pathetic little owl, I saw that my mother had turned so pale that it looked like all the blood had been sucked out of her face (perhaps by a creepy sparkly vampire?). I went over to her.

"Mom, are you okay?"

She stared blankly at the floor.

"Mom? Moooom? MOOOOOOOOoooooOOOOOOOOOM!"

"ALEX, STOP SCREAMING LIKE A BANSHEE!"

Wow. I just saved her from turning into a statue, and this is how she repays me? Ungrateful.

"I AM NOT SCREAMING LIKE A BANSHEE! I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT A BANSHEE IS! WHY DID I GET A LETTER? IS IT FROM SCHOOL? BECAUSE I'M TELLING YOU RIGHT NOW, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! I DIDN'T MEAN TO BREAK HIS LEG, I JUST WANTED TO FRACTURE IT!"

"ALEX! STOP SHOUTING! I'M GOING DEAF!"

"THEN STOP SHOUTING AT ME, MO-"

"_I AM NOT SHOUTING AT YOU, YOU BE QUIET AND… _Jesus Christ I give up. _Silencio_."

I found myself gaping at her like a goldfish, but no words could come out. I settled for a death glare. She sighed.

"Okay, I'm sorry Alex, but you really were getting too loud. I'll take the charm off if you agree to sit quietly and not interrupt."

I paused, weighing my options, and then nodded. She flicked her wand at me.

"aaaa…. Aaaaa… AAAAAAAHHHH. LA LA LA LAAAAAAAA."

"… Alex, what are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing. Just checking to see if my voice still works, after you STOLE it from me. THIS IS CHILD ABUSE! CHILD ABUSE I TELL YOU!"

"Alex, don't make me shut you up again." She said warningly.

"And now you're THREATENING me? WHAT KIND OF A MOTHER ARE YOU? I COULD REPORT YOU RIGHT NOW!"

"Do you want to know what the letter said or not?"

"MOM, I TOLD YOU. It wasn't my fault! He was being a doucheba—(insert cough from mother here) *ahem* I mean, he was being awfully impolite, mother. And I promised him that if he didn't shut the f-(_Alex! Language!)_um…. If he didn't stop talking, then I would hurt him, and you did always tell us to keep our promises, and how was I supposed to know that he had such weak bones? I'm telling you, Mom, that boy needs more calcium!"

"… "

"Mom? You forgive me, right? Did I ever mention how much I love you? Because I do. I love you, Mom. I LOVE YOUUU. I love you like I love food. And I really love food. I REALLY love food. I love food a LOT. By the way, Mom, can I have that sandwich? I'm hungry."

"… Alex, that letter was from A school, but not from YOUR school. Let me explain. You're a witch."

"OH, JEEZ, MOM. THANKS A LOT. YOU'RE SO SUPPORTIVE OF YOUR CHILDREN!"

"… That's not what I meant, Alex"

"… Oh. Okay. LOOK MOM! IT SAYS ON THE LETTER I CAN HAVE A PET! Mom, can I have  
>a cat? Pleaaase mom? PRETTY PRETTY PLEASEEEE?"<p>

"… You're not surprised that you're a witch?"

"Nah, not really. You DID tell me Dad was a wizard that one time when you guys came home drunk."

"I told you never to bring that up again!"

"YOU STARTED IT!"

"OKAY, OKAY. CALM DOWN. Let's go to Diagon Alley to get your stuff, then."

"WHEEEEEEEEEEE. Mom, are we going to go _diagonally?_AHAH mom, get it? GET IT? DIAGONALLY? DIAGON. ALLEY? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I'm so funny, mom."

"…."

"HOW ARE WE GETTING THERE? ARE WE GOING TO TAKE THE TRAAAAAIN?"

"… We'll Apparate. I'm embarrassed to be seen in public with you."

~At Gringotts~

"WHEEE MOM! LOOK! AHAHAH! THAT GOBLIN LOOKS LIKE MY MATH TEACHER!"

"Alex, it's rude to point."

"MOM! ARE WE GOING TO RIDE A CART?"

"Yes, Alex. We are."

"… SHINY!"

"… Well done, Alex."

~At Ollivanders~

"HAHAH I JUST MADE A SPARKLY THING GO OUT OF THIS WAND! I LIKE THIS WAND! CAN I KEEP IT?"

"… yes, Alex. How much is it, Mr. Ollivander?"

"Aah… Twelve inches, apple core, supple, dragon heartstring. That will be twelve Galleons, please."

"EEW! THERE'S DRAGON HEART IN THIS?"

"Yes, m'dear" Ollivander murmured, looking exasperated.

"Here you go, sir. Twelve Galleons. I'm sorry for the inconvenience caused." My mother added, looking around at the store which was now pink, sparkly, and covered with unicorns and rainbows.

At the end of the day, my mother was extremely tired out and exhausted. She looked at me, dragging my trunk behind me, wand shoved into my belt, and with a black kitten perched happily on the top of my head, blending into my hair so that it looked like I had an extremely large growth at the top of my head which had amber eyes (I had chosen the cat because it was what I imagined I would look like in cat form – unlike other purebloods, I had black hair and amber eyes).

She turned around, looked me straight in the eye, and said,  
>"Alex. Listen to me. I have no idea whether you're high or on drugs or whatever, but please, PLEASE try to behave after I drop you off at the station. Please."<p>

"Okie dokie, mom!"

"… That's it?"

"Yep!"

"… You're going to act sane now?"

"Yup! All you had to do was ask, you know."

"… I'll drop you off at the station early. I can't handle this anymore."

And so here I am, at the train station. Let's just say I felt extremely stupid standing there, with my black cat hat, and dragging a trunk. I looked quickly around, and saw a ragtag collection of gingers, all looking equally stupid as me, so I went to try and find directions to this Platform 9¾.

"Hi, um, excuse me, but I was wondering whether you could tell me how to get to Platform 9¾?" I asked oh so innocently.

"Of course, darling! All you need to do is to run into that wall!" She said cheerfully.

"I have to do WHAT?" I demanded, staring incredulously at the redheaded woman in front of me.  
>She had seemed quite normal, at first glance, but her calm exterior was obviously masking a severely… disturbed, shall we say, interior.<p>

"Run into the wall, dear! Here, it's Albus' first time as well. James, show them."

I smirked. This would be fun. I watched the boy with scruffy brown hair charge towards the wall, anticipating the moment of impact.

Then I blinked.

He had gone straight through.

Damnit. The universe was obviously conspiring against me. It was even bending the laws of physics just to deprive me of some sadistic fun. (Note to self: Never embarrass Mom on purpose in public again. Karma can and will get you back for it).

"Now, your turn!" The mother of the children exclaimed happily, shoving me and the other boy (I'd like to describe him, but I was being pushed towards my doom at a hundred miles per hour, so all I could see was a blur of black hair) towards the wall. The solid brick wall. As a general rule, I don't like my face getting too close to brick walls. I squirmed and tried to get away from it, but gods, this woman was strong! I shut my eyes and braced myself for the moment of impact.

But it didn't come.

It didn't. freaking. come.

And so when I opened my eyes, I realized that I was standing on a train platform, wincing like an idiot. I turned around and saw the woman smiling at me. STILL. She had just run through a freaking _brick wall_, and she was STILL smiling at me. I was seriously starting to wonder whether she had a medical condition that caused her to constantly smile. Ugh. Happiness. It was disgusting.

"Um, thanks. I'll.. just be going on the train now" I muttered, making a beeline for the train, not wanted to be in such close proximity to such cheerfulness.

I looked around, trying to find an empty compartment. Thankfully, I found one quite soon, and sank into it gratefully. I reached up with my hand to disentangle the kitten from my hair, and placed it on my lap, where it proceeded to try to eat my jeans.

I rolled my eyes.

"SILLY KITTEN! YOU ARE A KITTEN! YOU DO NOT EAT FABRIC!" I whispered loudly to the little furball who happily kept on destroying my favourite pair of jeans.

I sighed. "Why would you even EAT fabric, you little fluff thing? You can't even DIGEST fabric!"

I heard a shuffle, and whipped my head around, glaring at the doorway. There was a vaguely familiar boy who looked around the same age as me, standing awkwardly in the door frame. He had black hair which stuck up at the back, and almond shaped bottle-green eyes. Oh, that reminded me. I was hungry. Mmm... Almonds.

It was an awkward turtle moment. I hate turtles.

"Er… hi. I was going to ask if I could sit here, but you seem kinda busy so I'll just… go…"

Suddenly, another boy, slightly older this time, appeared behind the... I'll just call him the almond turtle. He was good-looking, I guess, brown hair, brown eyes. Like melted chocolate. Yum. Not at the boy. At the thought of chocolate. I quite like chocolate.

"Hi, I'm James, and this is my brother Al. We met on the platform." the chocolate boy said.

"Oh, uh... hi. I'm Alex. And... um..." _Goddamnit, Alex, say something!_ "This is my kitten." _Oh my god. Please tell me I did not just introduce my cat._

"Uh... okay... So do you mind if my little brother sits here?" James (a.k.a. choco boy) asked

"Does it look like I'm running a day care service here?" I snapped. I'd been hoping for a peaceful train journey during which I could plan my evil doings for the duration of my time at Hogwarts.

"Hey!" Albus protested, "I'm the same age as you, if not older!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, whatever. I guess he can stay."

James smiled. "Thanks."

"Ugh. Whatever. Just leave." I growled.

Slightly alarmed, James backed out of the compartment, sliding the door shut.

Good. I hadn't lost my touch.

Scowling, I turned around to glare at the turtle boy. He smiled back.

He SMILED.

I felt puzzlement flicker across my face before I could clamp down on it. Mentally kicking myself (how does that work, anyways?), I rearrange my face into my most intimidating scowl – the one that caused the 6 year old kid who lived next door to wet his pants.

"So, what's your kitten's name?" The turtle asked sunnily.

I do not joke. SUNNILY. It was like a freaking ray of sunshine was shining in our compartment.

It was disgusting. Actually, no. It was _embarrassing._I considered deepening my glare until he became catatonic, but then I relented. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? And I definitely would need to join turtle boy if I was to survive at Hogwarts.

That was the only reason for me to smile back. Not because of how ridiculously cute he looked. Nope. Because it advantaged me.

"I actually haven't thought of a name yet." I mused, "Maybe something like Dragon Slayer or the Reaper of Souls."

Albus (_snicker_– who names their child ALBUS?) looked down at the kitten, which was ferociously attacking my shoelaces. Hmm. Maybe the Terror of Hogwarts.

"Er… don't you think that you should choose a name that's more… suitable?" He ventured tentatively.

"Oh, don't be fooled by the apparent innocence of this deadly beast. Under the surface lurks a barbaric… um… barbarian who will not hesitate to rip your heart out! ATTACK, FEARSOME BEAST!" I roared

It jumped up onto Almond boy's lap and started purring. Traitor.

Albus looked like he was just barely containing himself from rolling on the floor with laughter. I tried to keep a straight face, and failed miserably. I let out an enormous snort and soon we were rolling around on the floor of the carriage, chortling. Through my struggling for breath, I found myself thinking that maybe, just maybe, this boy would not be too much of a burden to have around.

* * *

><p><strong> Second chapter will be up as soon as it's done. SabbiEatzCookies will be writing the second chapter, from the viewpoint of... well, I guess you'll just have to wait and see, now won't you? :)<strong>


	2. The Girl Who Talks To Plants

****DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. IN FACT, I DON'T EVEN OWN THIS CHAPTER, AS IT WASN'T EVEN WRITTEN BY ME (APPLEDRAGON) - IT WAS WRITTEN BY SABBIIEATZCOOKIES. BUT IT'S A COLLABORATION. SO YEAH. ****

**A/N:Hey guys! It's through pure Chinese pride that I created Yanny. I hope you find her not Mary Sue, because then I'll shoot her through the head, or make sparkly Cedric possess her or something. Enjoy this fanfic while it lasts. Eat apples. ~SabbiiEatzCookies**

Hey. My name is Yang Luo Feng. Many people don't know how to pronounce my name, so they just call me Yanny. Um..how should I say this…I-I-I…Uh...Lets just start with normal introductions, shall we?

I'm 15 years, 3 months, 2 days, 6 hours and 49.9 seconds old. I'm 164.423 cm tall. I like eating potatoes and chocolate chip cookies (not together). My favorite color is reddish brown, mixed with a bit of yellow. It reminds me of an exploding star. My favorite book is "75 Different Ways to Cook Waffles with Duct Tape." My favorite kind of animal is a hedgehog, but all my parents got me was a tiny, $8 hamster. I have affectionately named my hamster "Doughnut", and cut its hair into a Mohawk, running down its little brown back. I think Doughnut hates me. Not sure why.

As you can see, I'm big on the topic of food, and I also like everything to be neat and in a routine. I live in one of those dinky little apartments in London, close to Hyde Park. What else do you want me to tell you? I have approximately 578 books on my aquamarine blue bookshelf. I have 2837 songs in my iPhone. My pencil case is placed 3.45 centimeters from the right of my computer, which is in the direct center of the desk. I know so, because I measured it. Friends at school call me neat freak, human duster, The Janitor from Hell and pie brain. The last nickname was given after a very unfortunate accident, but that's another story.

Everything changed when the teacups exploded.

* * *

><p>Lying in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, dreaming about being a character in one of those wacky manga books. That's my favorite past time. Usually I'm doing something productive, like memorizing vocabulary from the dictionary, or measuring my desk to see if my extremely annoying brother and his Nerf gun have accidentally chipped off 0.001 centimeters of wood. Not today, apparently. I've just finished reading the 27th way to cook a waffle with duct tape (wrap up the pancake batter with duct tape, making sure that it stays in a relatively flat shape, and then set the whole thing on fire) and I didn't really want to finish the book for the, oh, 59th time. So I dozed off to sleep. Only to be woken by a rough hand pulling me off the bed, blankets and all.<p>

Something you should know about my mother: she's not bad. I don't blame her for pushing me hard to get good grades, up to the point where she sometimes hits me with a chicken feather duster if I ever get anything below 98%.

Anyway, my mother found out that I had gotten 97.5% on my Chinese dictation. She was extremely mad at me, even though I was only 0.5% away from passing (in her eyes). First, she called me to the living room, and then stomped to the kitchen to grab her chicken feather duster. As she started yelling at me for getting such a low grade, brandishing the duster all the while, my eyes had widened further and further in disbelief. I mean, come on! What was 0.5% anyway? Everything to her, apparently. She lunged forward, duster at the ready.

In my panic, I had started backing up. My mother had gotten into a sloppy kung fu stance with the chicken feather duster pointed straight at my chest (give her a break. She's 46 and out of practice!) Startled, I had tripped over the sofa and landed painfully on my buttocks. My hand twisted underneath me, and I cried out in pain. Mother scoffed at me, and cuffed me over the head gently with the chicken feather duster. Her eyes softened with amusement.

"Yang Luo Feng, next time I expect you to get 100%."

I smiled shakily back at her. Oh great! What kind of a mother uses a chicken feather duster to beat her children up? My mother. But I was glad I was spared. In her prime, she'd been one of those kickass kung fu champions, attending tournaments all over the world. I bet she could whip my butt better than a bartender could whip cream. Good thing she didn't practice for a long time.

_Crack!_

Her head whipped around to the porcelain cabinet. She narrowed her brown eyes suspiciously as a small; light blue teacup began to wobble gently. _Earthquake? Earthquakes don't happen in London._

Meanwhile, I was glad of the current distraction. Elation at escaping a beating was bubbling up in my chest, building up so much that it hurt a bit. No beating, mother distracted by a wobbly piece of porcelain. This meant that I could sneak back up to my room and laze around a bit more! I had already finished my homework for the next month, including all 9 subject essays, 3 drama performance script memorization, and 86 reflection pieces on my artwork. Therefore, I had nothing to do. Maybe I'll just surf the web or watch anime.

My annoying little brother was probably gaming (mine craft or something) in his room, and all I could hear was the click of keyboards and mouse, as well as some random gun noises. Boys.

The teacups chose that precise moment to explode.

Mother leapt back nimbly, all her ninja skills coming back to her. She held up her feather duster, blocking minute shards of sharp china. The whole cabinet shook, and teacups started flying out. Mother gave a wail of despair:

"That's my best china! Your great grandmother gave them to me!"

Hypocrite. As her mouth was busy wailing, her hands and legs were already whirling into action. Watching her fight flying teacups is like watching Bruce Lee, Jacky Chan and Chuck Norris all rolled into one person. Her hands smashed teacup after teacup, and her legs brought her leaping onto the sofa, onto the coffee table, onto the T.V. She was totally kicking the fragile butt of every single piece of priceless tableware Grandmother had ever sent us.

Wait, you're asking what I was doing? I was well um….

Screaming and running around in circles like a headless chicken.

Pretty soon, the teacups realized that they could never win against my mom. Suddenly, they all stopped in midair, hovering around 1.56 meters above the ground. And then they all spontaneously self destructed by exploding.

* * *

><p>My only coherent thoughts that day (besides stuff like <em>Oh mah gosh, don't come near me! You ugly, poo colored teapot!<em>)…was something along the lines of this:

_When I get happy, I make magic happen. My magic power is to make teacups explode? Well that's a sucky power._

You see; I had always suspected that I was abnormal. I mean, come on, when I was five, I made my stuffed teddy bear (affectionately named Mr. Piddywinkle) attack my worst enemy in kindergarten. I distinctly remember her face as she screamed and ran around with a teddy bear clinging to her back. I even think the teddy bear was trying to chew on her hair.

I also have the spectacular ability to talk to my plant. It doesn't say much though, usually just:

"Waaaattteerrr. Suuunnllliiiiggghttt. Water me!" Yea, that. Oh, and I just recently taught it to say:

"Feed me plant food!" Because I accidentally left it out of the sunlight for more than 72 hours and it was starving for minerals.

My mother gave up kung fu for Chinese witchcraft. She was like one of those Chinese witches, you know, beating someone's picture with a shoe to send them bad luck? That kinda thing. Sometimes she even tells someone's fortune for a small sum of money. She's successful though, because her fortunetelling is always right on the mark. Sometimes I help her in the stall. But that doesn't always work out. Because then it goes something like this:

Mom: "Mr. Lee, your child will be a boy, born on the 27th of March."

Mr. Lee: "Thank you."

Me: "Precisely at 3:02 pm in the afternoon, when the sun is already around 97.7 degrees in the sky. The weather is going to be a clear blue with only 3 clouds visible in the 700 km radius that we can see the sky from the hospital. He's going to be in room 378, roughly 20 meters southwest from the nurse's office, approximately 2.3 seconds walking time. He's going to weigh 1.987237846 kg, his eyes are going to be steely grey, he's going to have 487 strands of hair on his head when he is first born."

Mr. Lee: "…What?"

Yea. I tend to confuse her customers a lot, so she kicked me out of the store, never mind that everything I said was accurate. Yep. I was also blessed with the ability to tell a bit of the future, if someone requests of it that is, focusing on every single detail I could get. Joy.

* * *

><p>When the owl finally came, my mother was expecting it. It was one of those fat tawny brown owls, with a cute little beak holding a letter and a dead mouse. The letter, it dropped onto my lap neatly. The dead mouse, it dropped into Moyashi's (my plant) flowerpot. I started screeching hysterically, not unlike the owl itself, which was screeching because it lost its dead mouse.<p>

I ran to Moyashi and pulled the dead mouse off its leaf gingerly.

"Hey, Moyashi? Still alive?"

"Fertilizer?"

"Oh good, you're okay."

"Water!"

"Yea, yea."

Tossing the dead mouse to the owl, I turned to my letter eagerly. I had never gotten a letter before, except for one from a Mr. Lee saying: "How the heck did you know he's going to have 487 strands of hair on his head?" which I ignored, because I had no idea what he was talking about.

It was from Hogwarts.

This was my reaction: "EEWW MOM SOMEBODY NAMED HOGWARTS GAVE ME A LETTER. Hog warts! That's disgusting mom! It's like pig pimples! There must be so much germs!"

This was my mom's reaction: "Good, good, you're confirmed as a witch. And I was so worried you were abnormal! So my prediction turned out to be true after all."

And with that, she opened the forbidden cupboard, which she had told me from the age of seven to never touch. She cracked the feather duster threateningly when she saw the biscuit and chocolate wrappers, even an empty potato chip bag neatly folded and arranged into rows on the first shelf of the forbidden cupboard.

"Uh mom, sorry, I didn't really want you to know that I was eating junk food, so I put it all in the forbidden cupboard...PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!"

Mom sighed, sliding the feather duster back into its plastic sheath looped into her belt. Yep. The ninja samurai Chinese witch with a chicken feather duster as a weapon, which is kept at her belt. That's my mom all right.

She swept her hand across the junk, knocking it all onto the floor carelessly. I gasped as all my junk food origami got twisted out of shape. And there were biscuit and chip crumbs all over the floor now.

"I'll go get the vacuu…"

"You stay right here, young lady."

Kung fu mom grabbed me by the collar and hauled me in front of the forbidden cupboard, and then jammed my head into the first shelf. I squealed as the smell of dusty old books hit my nose.

"MOM! IT'S DISGUSTING BACK HERE! DO YOU KNOW THAT THERE ARE 820938475.334 DUST MITES ON EVERY BIT OF DUST FLOATING AROU…"

"Just look inside!"

"BUT THE DUST MITES ARE GOING INTO MY EYE!"

With another sigh, she pulled me out and stuck her own hands inside the germ-infested cubby. She pulled out a stack of books, all easily around 10 years old. She explained that I was a witch and that I was going to go to school in Hogwarts, all the while digging in the cubby full of swarming bacteria.

"Wait, so you mean I'll get to use my creepy plant speech skills? And my weird fortune telling skills?"

"Here, your school books."

"What? How did you know what to get?"

"I predicted it."

* * *

><p>So here I was, outside one of the compartments on the Hogwarts express.<p>

My adventures on platform 9 and three quarters were really interesting to say the least. It involved me trying to sanitize the whole brick pillar (no easy feat when your hands keep passing through the bricks) before my mother ran out of patience and booted me straight into it. I had three pets with me: my plant, Moyashi, my hamster, Doughnut, and this little owl with grey feathers and beady eyes. I named it Chucky Tuna. It almost ate Doughnut.

People kept staring at my mother and I when we pass by. We were both wearing traditional Chinese garb (to endorse in the pride of our Chinese culture, my mother had told me). My Chinese dress was sky blue and embroidered with clouds and flying cranes. I was proud of wearing a brand new dress so pretty as this, but at the same time so aware of all the stares and raised eyebrows I was getting.

My mom shoved me onto the train mercilessly. As I turned with teary eyes, she held three last items towards me: A bag of fortune cookies, a year's worth supply of hand sanitizer and a jade necklace, with the jade itself in the shape of a droplet of water.

"Call me every day at 9 pm with your iPhone, okay? The jade necklace will balance your chi and keep you from being possessed. It will also keep bloodsucking creatures at bay. I sprayed it with mosquito repellent. Oh and, only open one of your fortune cookies when you really need it. It will aid you in making the right choices."

She unsheathed the duster of doom and whapped me over the head gently.

"Child abuse." Someone on the platform muttered. Mother ignored her.

"Stay safe, Luo Feng. Study hard. I won't be there to beat you anymore."

_Boy, am I glad of that._

* * *

><p>I started fiddling with the hem of my dress. Picking off the head of one of the cranes. The jade necklace was hung around my neck loosely. My luggage were all piled unceremoniously by the door, and in my free hand (the one not fiddling with anything) I was clutching the bag of fortune cookies and one of the 1093847 bottles of hand sanitizer I have with me. I was shy by nature, so I really didn't know what to say. The people in the compartment were staring at me. Staring...<p>

I gulped, and said the first thing that popped into my mind:

"Do you like waffles?"

**A/N: Whee! It's (somewhat) a cliffhanger! Hope you enjoyed that incredibly insane chapter :) Remember to review! I will love you forever if you do :D ~AppleDragon**


	3. The Overuse of Hand Sanitizer

**DISCLAIMER: UNFORTUNATELY, I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. AND I AM NOT RICH. WHICH MAKES ME VERY VERY SAD. HOWEVER, I WHAT I _AM_ GRATEFUL FOR IS THE FACT THAT I DO NOT OWN SPARKLY CEDRIC. SO IF YOU WANT TO KILL SOMEONE FOR CREATING HIM, LOOK ELSEWHERE. **

**A/N: Hi guys! Chapter 3 is here... My thanks to SabbiiEatzCookies for helping me with Yanny's speech here - her insanity is kind of hard for me to convey... Anyways. ENJOY. I see that you are reading. So why aren't you reviewing? Huge thanks to TunaSFX for reviewing. I thank thee from the depths of my heart. You guys should follow his/her example. REVIEW. Make my day :)**

**ENOUGH OF MY RAMBLINGS. ON WITH THE STORY: (from Alex's POV) ~ AppleDragon**

When I was finally able to regain my breath, my composure, and my dignity, I rolled over and sat up, only to notice a Chinese girl standing in the doorway of my compartment. And how did I know that she was Chinese, I ask?

Because she was wearing a full-blown cheongsam. With freaking birds on it. One of which was missing a head. As I opened my mouth to inform her of this fact, she blurted out:

"Do you like waffles?"

I mean, what kind of a question was that? Of _course_ I like waffles! What kind of inhumane, demonic freak _wouldn't_ like waffles? I decided to prove to this girl that not only did I LIKE waffles, I ADORED waffles.

And so the Waffle Interpretive Dance and Song was born.

"DO YOU LIKE WAFFLES, YES I DO. DO YOU LIKE WAFFLES IN A STEW. PUT 'EM IN A POT UNTIL THEY'RE HOT AND EAT 'EM ALL UP NOMNOMNOMNOM!" I bellowed, while making pot-stirring hand motions.

The little Chinese girl paled considerably and leaped back a bit. Subsequently, she stumbled over her own luggage and hit her head on the wall. Instantly, our compartment was filled with Chinese curses and screaming and hand sanitizer. She whipped around with a ferocity only a grizzly bear can possess, and started sanitizing the wall. Unfortunately, there was a prefect between her and the wall, so she smeared his face with hand sanitizer.

The prefect spluttered and spat the hand sanitizer all over her nose, and she went cross-eyed staring at the gloop on it. Soon afterwards, she passed out on the floor. Just as I was enjoying this brief respite in the insanity that is the Hogwarts Express, her eyes shot open, and she jumped back up into the air again, screaming obscenities and random facts about how many germs one could find in a carpet before fainting again. After watching this go on four around 10 minutes, Albus decided to ruin my sadistic fun by opening his hyperactive mouth.

"Actually, I don't really like waffles. But you can come sit with us, if you like." Noticing my appalled look, he added defensively, "Well, I don't. I prefer pancakes. It's a texture thing, I guess."

Obviously the almond turtle had major mental disorders. In case it was contagious, I decided to sit on the opposite side of the compartment to him.

Completely ignoring me, Albus stood up and extended his hand to the little Chinese girl.

"Hi, I'm Al." He said, smiling winningly at her. "What's your name?"

"Hi...my name is Yang Luo Feng, butyoucancallmeYannyifyoulike because most people don't know how to pronounce my name...um...there are 100,000 bacteria on every square centimetre of skin, so around 102,203,029.20394 in total on the palm of your hand, ⅓ of those good for the skin and the rest pretty bad so can I please not accept your handshake?" She stammered.

I stared at her.

Seemingly noticing this, she seemed to get even more flustered, "You...uhh...bacteria! I mean, everyone has bacteria, even me." She looked a bit shell shocked at the realization. "Wait..even me? NOO!" And she squeezed her eyes shut, grabbed Albus by the arm and started vigorously pouring large quantities of hand sanitizer all over his sweater. She was muttering something that sounded suspiciously like: "Kill all the dust mites living in the woolly sweater! KILL KILL KILL!" She then proceeded to start putting hand sanitizer on her own arms, her face and her legs. Like mosquito repellent.

An evil smile started to steal across my face. So, she hated germs, eh? Heh. Heh. Heh.

Albus looked sharply at me. "Alex…" he said warningly.

"What?" I asked innocently, with my very best innocent face on. This face worked all the time. I remember when it got me off scotch free after I pushed that one guy off the cliff once. But that's another story.

The turtle didn't seem to be falling for it. Hmm… interesting.

Just as I was about to quickly change the subject, I heard this insane yowling. I whipped my head around quickly, only to see insane Chinese girl squirting hand sanitizer all over the compartment seat… and my kitten, who seemed surprisingly small, with all the fluff glued to his body. Catching my eye, he meowed piteously.

That was it. That was the last straw.

No-one, and I mean _no-one_, messes with my cat. Whipping out my wand, I was about to hex her into oblivion before I realized something. I didn't know any hexes. UGH my life sucks.

Huffing, I was about to resort to old-fashioned fists, when the trolley lady knocked on the door, beaming. I looked over at her, and…

"AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHH! MY EYES! MY EYES!" I shrieked, rolling under the compartment seat, and into a huge pile of hand-sanitizer. I was quite grateful for that. The cooling sensation distracted me from the lady's bubbly cheerfulness. Speaking of which, I peeked through my fingers to see her still smiling at me, quite unperturbed. Meanwhile, the… Yanny, was it? … anyways, she was looking at me with slight concern.

"CALCULATION ERROR! DOES NOT COMPUTE!" She squawked. She reached into her pocket and pulled out several protractors, a ruler, a tape measure and some scissors. With the tape measure and the protractor, she began measuring my shoulders. "You shouldn't fit under there! The height of that structure is only 29.4587 cm, while your shoulders are 30.1872 cm. I know!" She took out her scissors, and cut a huge hole in my T-shirt where my shoulders were. "That's better!" She beamed at me.

I gaped at her. She was smiling manically, while brandishing a pair of scissors which, I promise you, were larger than her head.

She had just cut a hole in my shirt.

She had dared come close enough to me to cut a hole in my shirt.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" I howled, "DO YOU HAVE NO SENSE OF PERSONAL SPACE? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? WHYYY?"

Yanny tilted her head, confused. She muttered something about "Everything in the world has to go according to mathematical measurements or the sun will spontaneously combust and send out around 198234769873465987263 meters of pure hydrogen and heat and that will reach the earth in 209384750982.2347897 light years." She tilted her head again. "No, that's not entirely accurate..." And she whipped out a calculator. And it was graphical. With freaking buttons and graphical displays and everything. Just looking at it made my head hurt.

"ALBUS! MAKE HER GO AWAY!" I shrieked, rolling further away and cowering with my back against the wall. (I was quite grateful to the hand sanitizer. It made it a lot easier to squeeze further under the chair).

Long story short, Albus apologized to the trolley cart lady, who, by the way, had been completely unruffled and had been smiley throughout the entire encounter. If that wasn't evil, then I frankly didn't know what is. It was purely unnatural. And freaky. I swear that woman was possessed by something.

Albus grabbed my unnamed kitty and pointed his wand at it – _Scourgify!_ I would have raised an eyebrow, but I didn't see any point in it as I was still under the seat, sheltering from the insane madwoman that was out there. With freaking _scissors_. There was no way I was going out there. No way in _hell_.

He hung a chocolate frog in front of me. I strained to reach it, but he just moved it further away. Jerk. As if I was going to fall for that. Scowling, I rolled away and tried to ignore it.

"I CAN'T SEE IT, I CAN'T SEE IT. HAHAHA I WILL NOT FALL FOR YOUR SILLY TRICKS, ALBUS! I SHALL NOT!"

…

I could smell it. I could smell the divine, chocolatey goodness wafting towards me, tempting me to do bad, bad things… but NO! I shall be strong! I shall… I shall… I shall persevere! No matter how deliciously tempting it...

"Well, since you don't want it, Alex, I guess I'll just have to give it to Yanny here. Although I'd really love to give it to you. But you leave me no choice…" Albus sighed.

Evil prick.

"OKAY OKAY I SURRENDER JUST… JUST… GIVE ME THE CHOCOLATE!" I cried, crawling out from under the chair, running over to him and shoving the entire chocolate frog into my mouth. Mmmmmmmmmm… This was heaven.

But… something was invading my heaven. I opened one eye a slit, and saw Yanny the Chinese weirdo staring at me like I had just crawled out of toxic sludge.

"Problem?" I slurred through my mouthful of chocolate.

"It's just… shouldn't you wash your hands before you eat? Because you're kind of… covered… in 3940.93 ml of hand sanitizer…" she muttered, not looking me in the eye.

"Huh? Oh, no. It's no problem." I replied sleepily. I was in a sugar-induced coma by now, and all my troubles seemed far, far away. Because I was now in the land of happiness and rainbows and sparkles and kittens and…

The lights went out.

The. Lights. Went. Out.

Could they not have gone out at a better time? I was actually _happy_ for once in my life, and they went out. It was pitch dark outside, which I hadn't noticed before, and a full moon hung suspended outside the train window, lighting the compartment with a very eerie light.

I glanced around, eyes adjusting quickly. I snickered at Yanny hugging her elbows close to her, trying not to touch anything, and at Al sitting down with an anxious expression on his face. I had just settled down again with my pet in my lap when a beam of light shot into the compartment, quickly followed by the boy with the chocolate eyes.

"AL! Are you okay?" The boy roared, shattering my momentary peace.

"Huh?" Al asked, fumbling around and squinting in the sudden glare of light. "Oh, hi James. Yeah, I'm fine."

"What did you do to that cute girl? The one that I asked to look after you? Al, I swear to God, if you've killed her..."

I coughed. "Right here, James."

He turned around, trapping me in his warm, melting, chocolatey, sweet, adorable... _SNAP OUT OF IT, ALEX_. His eyes. Yeah. His eyes. His dreamy, beautiful...

Shaking my head to try and shake myself out of whatever sickly stupor I had fallen into (probably from inhaling the alcoholic fumes of the sanitizer), I smirked at him. "So, you think I'm cute, huh?"

He blushed beet red, and looked down at the floor. "Um... no, it's not that..." He looked up, seeming to have noticed my glare, and then stammered "Not that you're not cute, it's just..."

Al cut across him easily, "Okay, so if you're done making a complete fool out of yourself, James, then I think this is the perfect time... to tell horror stories." he finished with a slightly evil grin.

I congratulated myself on how well I had taught my trainee in the arts of evilness. Give me two more weeks of him and he'll have lighting, thunder and all the rest of it.

We all sat in a circle on the bottom of the train compartment, and James conjured up a purple flame in the middle. Pulling my kitten onto my lap so that he wouldn't become the Burnt Crisp of Train Compartment Eight, which was too long a name for so small a creature anyways, I leant forwards, giving all my attention to Albus, who held his wand under his face after having lit it with a cry of _Lumos_.

"What I am about to tell you today is not a tale for the weak of heart. It is the greatest horror story of Hogwarts... and I suggest that the faint of heart leave now."

Yanny scrambled to her feet at this point, and tried to bolt. Smirking, I held onto the hem of her dress until she fell flat on her face, at which point she started screaming her head off about dust mites and what not. An epiphany struck. Taking out my wand, I muttered _Silencio_, and she immediately fell silent. Grinning, I thought, _like mother like daughter._

Dragging the spastic Yanny back to her spot, I threw some sanitizer at her to calm her down, and nodded at Al to continue.  
>"Ahem... anyways, this is the tale... of <em>Sparkly Cedric.<em>"

There was a collective gasp around our compartment, while I just stared blankly.

"... Sparkly Cedric? Isn't that like, an unicorn or something?" I asked. Still staring blankly. Honestly, sometimes I had absolutely no idea what went on in that boys brain.

"HUSH. DO NOT INTERRUPT THE TELLING OF THE TALE OF SPARKLY CEDRIC!" Al nearly screeched.

Wow. Okay. Jeez.

Yanny started shaking quietly. She knew the tale of Sparkly Cedric. It was the tale of pure evil. Her mother had told her many times that Sparkly Cedric eats brains (and sucks blood). She started mumbling under her breath: "Don't interrupt again, or Sparkly Cedric, approximately 1.721314 meters tall, weighing 67.498 kg, with 23987 strands of hair on his head, sparkles at 29384765 glittering cm of skin per 1.348 seconds, will come out of that wall right now."

Glancing over at Yanny, who by now was rocking back and forth, muttering to herself about sparkles and blood, I slowly edged away. Unfortunately, that meant that I bumped straight into James.

He slung an arm casually across my shoulders, and I contemplated falcon punching him, but I settled for hissing at him instead. Laughing, he withdrew his arm. Which was good, because otherwise I would have had to remove it myself - from his body. With that ruler Yanny was holding.

"Are you guys done freaking out now? Can I finish the story?" Albus demanded impatiently.

Sniggering, I waved my hand for him to continue.

And so we passed our train ride to Hogwarts - toasting marshmallows, and listening to Albus getting way too excited about this Sparkly Cedric thing. It was so corny that I almost barfed. Almost. But not quite. Because watching Yanny almost wet herself from fright held a sadistic enough edge to keep the s'mores firmly in my stomach.

Before I knew it, it was time for us to change into our robes. Promptly, I threw Al and James out of our compartment, and drew the blinds, changed swiftly, and was about to let them back in when I glanced over at Yanny, who was having difficulty with her buttons. Sighing, I reached over to help her, and then turned around as she changed too. I let the boys, who had already changed in James' compartment, back in.

"Well. I guess this is it, then." I stated, looking out at the castle which loomed ominously up at us, although there were warm, comfy lights shining out the windows.

"Yep." Al said, taking a deep breath.

I looked at him sharply. Even though we had only met a few hours ago, I could tell that this was an abnormally short sentence for him. Nerves?

I ushered everyone else out of the compartment, and then drew Al to one side. I put a hand on his shoulder until he met my gaze.

"Al. I can tell something's up. What're you so worried about?" I asked.

"It's just... there's all this pressure on me to be a Gryffindor and stuff, with me being the son of Harry Potter and all, and I gue-" he blurted all at once, until he was rudely interrupted.

By who?

By yours truly.

"WOAH. Wait, what? Your dad is HARRY POTTER?" I asked, eyes almost popping out of my skull. (I mean, yeah, I was raised as a Muggle, but my parents had still told me about Harry Potter. The guy was a legend!)

Al looked at me in shock. "Wait, you didn't know?" He asked.

"Well, no _duh_." I retorted, rolling my eyes.

A small smile stole across his face. "You didn't know, but you still were willing to hang out with me for all this time?"

I smacked him on the shoulder. "Snap out of it, Al! You're your own person, who your dad is doesn't define who you are." Softening, I added, "And neither does what house you're in."

Taking a deep breath, Albus looked me in the eyes, and nodded.

I suddenly realized that I was growing soft. No, no no. This could _not_do. I had a reputation to maintain, people!

Shoving Al out of the train, and scooping up the Kitten-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, I screamed, "RACE YA!", and took off running in the direction of Yanny.


End file.
